


In The Bleak Midwinter

by ToscaRossetti



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Angst, Dean Winchester Misses Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester trying to be normal, Drinking, F/M, Memories, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Winchester in Hell, Set between Seasons 5 & 6, brief mentions of Hell and torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:40:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28530084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToscaRossetti/pseuds/ToscaRossetti
Summary: Dean Winchester is living with Lisa and Ben Braeden after Sam had thrown himself into The Cage. It's Christmastime, and Dean didn't realize how much he'd be thinking about his brother.
Relationships: Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	In The Bleak Midwinter

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Surprise, this is not a spankfic! C.D. Wofford suggested the prompt of a fic that takes place between seasons 5 & 6, when Sam is in The Cage and Dean is living with Lisa and Ben, at Christmastime, and this is what I wrote. The title of the fic is the title of a poem by Christina Rossetti, and it was also turned into a Christmas carol. My favorite version is by composer Harold Darke. (Christina Rossetti is the sister of the Pre-Raphaelite painter and poet Gabriel Dante Rossetti, and yes, that is where I got my last name) Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Content Warning for angst, swearing, and mentions of torture and Hell. 
> 
> ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Dean had no idea that holidays could be so--well, so  _ busy _ . The Winchesters didn’t really ‘do’ holidays. It was weapons prep, research and hunting all year round. When he and Sam were kids, John might make a half-hearted attempt, bringing a tiny, bedraggled tree to their already cramped motel room with a couple of small presents, and then they’d get Chinese carryout on Christmas day. As they got older and John became more focused on hunting the demon, celebrating holidays was low on the list of things that needed to be done.

But with Lisa and Ben, things were different.Dean had no idea that a parent could be so involved in their kid’s school. Lisa was in the PTA and was also a “Room Mother” (whatever that was) for Ben’s class. Lisa wasn’t a ‘helicopter mother’ by any stretch of the imagination-- Ben had been in the same school for a few years and Lisa knew a lot of the teachers and staff and was friendly with them. John had never bothered to set foot in a school unless one of his sons was in trouble. Dean still felt a nervous pang when an adult wearing a suit walked by- too many bad memories of being hauled into a principal’s office put him perpetually on edge when he was visiting Ben’s school.

Tonight, though, he had to suck it up and make nice- it was the yearly “Holiday Music Program”, and parents were encouraged to attend. There was supposed to be a performance by the kids, then a gift baskets raffle to raise money for different departments in the school, and then everyone was expected to stay  and have cookies and punch. Lisa had volunteered for a stint at the drinks table, and Dean begged off by saying he’d wrangle Ben and make sure he didn’t gorge himself on too many desserts. 

Every kid had to attend chorus, so Dean and Lisa had to sit through all the different grades performing. The youngest grades were cute, many of them didn’t know the words and just made stuff up, or they’d wave exaggeratedly to their families or dance. Dean remembered going to Sam’s performances when he was that young, and how Sam’s face would light up when he spotted Dean in the audience.  _ Dean slouched back in the folding chair, looking every bit the cool high schooler with his leather jacket and ripped jeans. You’d think he was there under duress, but in reality he was there to support his little brother and he was proud of the kid. Onstage, Sam’s eyes connected with Dean’s and his grin was ear-to-ear. He gave a little wave, and Dean nodded back.  _ Dean felt his throat constrict at the memory, and cleared his throat. Lisa glanced at him and reached over to squeeze his hand. He tried to clear his face of any upset so she wouldn’t think he’d been thinking of Sam.

Ben was in the Fifth grade chorus, and they did an okay job. He had studiously ignored Lisa and Dean as the class was walking up to the stage, but once the kids were all standing in their places, Dean caught Ben looking around as if he was looking for them. Dean shot him a wink and a thumbs up. “He sees us, Lis,” He murmured to Lisa, and she lifted her phone and took a couple of photos. Ben noticed and rolled his eyes. He was getting to the age where he really didn’t like displays of emotion from his mom, or Dean for that matter, and he wasn’t shy about expressing his dislike. 

When the Sixth grade was finished, the principal got back onstage and reminded people to meet up with your child first before going to the gym where the raffle winners would be announced shortly, and don’t forget to purchase some baked goods and drinks, the proceeds of which were going towards the Sixth grader’s end of the year field trip!

“I thought the grub was free.” Dean said to Lisa as they stood up to let the other people in their row pass by. 

“If there’s a chance to make some money, the PTA will take it.” Lisa said out of the side of her mouth. “There’s always some cookies and stuff kept back for the volunteers, I’ll get you a couple.” 

“Thanks, babe.” Dean smiled at her, putting his hand on the small of her back.

She craned her neck, looking through the crowd to find Ben. “Oh, there he is.” She waved. “Ben! Ben, over here!” 

Ben came barreling over, yanking his clip-on tie off and tossing it at Lisa. “I hate this thing!” He griped, wrestling with the top button of his dress shirt. 

There were two boys with him, Cody and Nate. They were Ben’s best friends in class and they all played on the same little league team. 

Cody held up a ten dollar bill. “Hey, let’s go get some cookies! My mom made Rice Krispie treats and Snickerdoodles, and she said that Mrs. Graham made chocolate dipped pretzels!” 

Ben started to turn toward his friends, but Dean stopped him. “Easy, tiger. Say hi to your mom.”

“Hi, Mom.” Ben said hurriedly.

“You boys did a great job.” Lisa told them, reaching out to smooth Ben’s hair back. He made a face, but didn’t complain. Lisa had agreed not to hug or kiss him in front of his friends, but she’d told Ben she wasn’t going to completely stop touching him. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Braeden!” Nate said. 

“It’s _ Ms.!”  _ Ben hissed, and Nate blushed. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Lisa smiled at the boy. “Ben, I have to man the drinks table for a while--”

“You should hang with me,” Dean tried to sound casual. 

“Aww, do I have to?” Ben’s shoulders slumped- being asked to hang out with an adult rather than your friends was apparently The Worst Thing Ever.

Dean considered for a moment. If this had been Sam and him, their dad would have made them stay right by his side, or at the very least stick together. He was nervous letting Ben out of his sight with such a huge crowd of people, even if it was just a bunch of civilians; danger could often lurk in the most normal settings. 

Lisa was looking at him with raised eyebrows. They had had a couple of talks about Dean’s role with Ben and how she didn’t want Dean to try and take over the parenting. 

Dean didn’t want to make waves with Lisa, so he took out his wallet and removed a five-dollar bill. “Tell you what. You can go be with your friends, but I don’t want to hear about you gettin’ into any trouble, got me?” He gave each boy a serious look. “Buy yourself some chow. I’ll be in the gym near the far entrance.” 

Ben grinned up at him. “Thanks, Dean!” He grabbed the bill and tucked it into his pocket, and then all three boys ran away.

_ “Walk!”  _ Lisa called after them.

“I don’t think boys know what that means,” Dean joked as they turned to walk to the gym.

Lisa looked at him appreciatively. “I know you’re protective of him, but really, he’s pretty safe here. Thanks for not being a hardass.” 

Dean tried to look innocent. “Who, me?” He had griped about the layout of the school the first time he’d visited, that the doors all opened inward, which was a fire safety hazard, and that they didn’t appear to have a good safety protocol for the front office. 

She chuckled and swatted his arm. “C’mon.” 

Dean placed his hand at the small of her back again as they navigated through the crowd. Lisa said hello to several people, most of whom Dean didn’t recognize. He nodded back when they nodded at him, a lot of people that knew Lisa acted like they knew him too. Dean knew it was part of how civilians acted in suburbia, but he still couldn’t get used to it.

He walked her over to the drink table and paid for a room-temperature can of Coke. Giving Lisa a peck on the cheek, he pointed. “I’ll be over there, keepin’ an eye out for the kid.” 

She nodded, walking around to the other side and greeting the woman on the other side.

“Well, hey there!” Dean felt a hand clap his shoulder, and turned, forcing his muscles to relax. His hunter’s reflexes automatically made him want to deck anyone who grabbed him from behind.

It was Dale, the father of one of Ben’s team-mates. He was forever trying to convince Ben to try out for other sports- he was obsessed with sports and thought that all boys should be, too. 

  
  


“There’s still one week left of hockey tryouts,” Dale told Dean. “You should bring Ben out.”

Dean shook his head. “No thanks, Dale, he’s not interested.” 

“He’ll never know unless he gives it a try, right?” Dale smiled and bumped Dean’s elbow with his. 

Dean gritted his teeth at the over-familiarity of the gesture. “He’s not really into hockey.” Dean, and Lisa as well, didn’t see the point in forcing a kid to do things that they didn’t like. Ben wasn’t one of those kids that had to constantly be on a team. He liked baseball and that was it. 

“C’mon, I know he’d be great at it!” Dale’s smile stretched wider, looking fake now. 

What Dean really wanted was to tell the guy to shut the hell up and back off- he was an obnoxious guy who paced the side of the field during the game, shouting “encouragement” to all the kids and getting into arguments with the referees. 

Dean shook his head again. “Nah. Listen, I, uh, I need to ask Lisa something.” He turned and hurried away, grateful that he could use Lisa as an excuse. 

Lisa raised her eyebrows at him as he neared the table. 

“Just, uh, checking on you. Dale was bugging me about hockey again.” He told her quietly.

She sighed with annoyance. “I wish he’d let it go.”

“Yeah, me too. You holdin’ up okay?” 

She smiled at him. “Yeah, I’m good. Oh, here.” She turned to the table behind her that was stacked with baked goods that hadn’t been put out for sale yet, and handed him a large cookie in the shape of a tree, topped with green frosting and little colored blobs that were supposed to be ornaments. “Walk around eating that, it’ll be an advertisement for people to buy something.” 

“Oh, thanks!” He accepted the cookie with a grateful smile and walked a few feet away. A couple of kids stared at him as he began to eat it, tugging on their parent’s coat sleeves and pointing at him. 

He leaned against a table in the corner, watching people as he ate. At least he had something to do, he would have felt a lot more awkward just standing there. A hunter is supposed to blend in and be inconspicuous, but he always felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb in situations like this. Even though Lisa had assured him that nobody thought anything was off about him, he still didn’t feel like he fit in. and he knew that he never really would fit into this white picket fence, apple pie life that was all around him.

There was a group of three women standing together, talking earnestly to each other, with 4 young kids running around them in circles and giggling. 

A harried looking man walked by holding a fussing baby in one arm and dragging a girl by the hand. “--go find mom and get the diaper bag!” The man was saying grumpily.

A group of boys ran through the gym, laughing loudly and tagging each other, barely missing knocking a couple of people over. Dean turned to watch them, trying to see if Ben was one of the kids.

When he turned back, a little girl of about two years old was toddling towards him fast, watching her feet so studiously that she didn’t see him. At the last second, she tripped on the hem of her dress and began to fall forward. He leaned down to grab her, and she looked up at him and gasped in surprise when he caught her. 

“Careful there,” he said, smiling at her. 

She looked shocked and burst into tears. He wasn’t sure whether to let her go or try and keep holding her to comfort her- he knew that people looked askance at strange men holding crying babies. He set her on his feet and hovered over her.

“Kaylee, there you are!” A woman came hurrying over, leaning down and picking the child up. The toddler buried her face in her mother’s neck. 

“She’s just learned to walk, and she concentrates so hard that she doesn’t look where she’s going.” The woman explained with a sheepish smile. 

“That’s all right.” Dean smiled back. “I’m glad I was there to catch her before she hit the floor.” 

“Thank you.” She said gratefully, and turned to walk back towards a group of people.

Dean remembered watching Sam when he was learning how to walk. Once he got the hang of it, there was no stopping him, and Dean spent a lot of time at the playground chasing after his brother.  _ “I’m gonna get you!” Dean called after the little boy. Sammy turned, his chubby cheeks ruddy with the cold. “Gonna geh you!” He said to Dean, running toward him.  _ Again, Dean felt a tightness in his throat, and a wave of sadness rose up in him.

“Hey, you in there?” A voice startled him out of his reverie. Lisa stood in front of him, holding a rectangular plastic container in her hands. She knew not to touch Dean when he was lost in thought, she had seen him flinch too many times.

He shook his head. “Sorry, just--remembering.” He squared his shoulders and clenched his jaw to shove the feelings down.

She moved next to him and slid her hand through his arm, giving it a squeeze. “Let’s go find Ben and go home, I’m in the mood for some Irish Coffee with this.” She held up the box. “I got some of Maryann Johnson’s coffee cake, and they’ll go well together.”

“Sounds good to me.” Dean agreed. He’d be able to relax when they got out of this crowd. Growing up with just his dad and brother, never settling down in one place, he’d never gotten comfortable in large groups of people.

There was the squeak of feedback, and then the president of the PTA began to talk into a microphone about the raffles. People began to walk over to the tables that held them.

Dean looked at Lisa. “Do we need to stay for this?”

She shook her head. “We can leave.”

It took a while to find Ben- he and his friends were hunkered down at the end of the hallway, looking at a bunch of Pokemon cards spread out before them. 

“All right, kiddo, let’s get going.” Lisa said. 

“Didja bring me anything?” Ben looked meaningfully at the Tupperware container in her hands as he stood up.

“That depends on how much you already had to eat.” She licked the tip of her finger and wiped a smear of blue icing off of the side of his lip.

He pulled away, frowning. “Aww Mom!”

“Would it kill you to use a napkin once in a while?” She tried to make a joke, but Ben continued to scowl.

His friends called out their goodbyes, and Ben responded as they turned to leave. 

As they walked across the parking lot, a voice called out “Hello there!” 

They stopped and turned, Dean instinctively stepping in front of Lisa and Ben and reaching into his jacket for the gun that he no longer carried. 

It was their elderly neighbor, Mrs. D’Angelo. She was a kindly older woman who lived alone and always had popsicles and cookies for the neighborhood kids, and people in the neighborhood stepped up to help her out with yard work and the like. Dean had mowed her lawn once or twice.

“Hi, Mrs. D’Angelo.” Lisa said, and Dean greeted her as well.

“The concert was lovely!” Mrs. D’Angelo said.

After a moment, Lisa bumped Ben with her elbow. “What do you say?” She hissed.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Ben said.

“I wanted to thank you for the cookies!” Mrs. D’Angelo focused on him. “Ben, you did a lovely job decorating the snowmen!” When Lisa had had her big cookie-baking marathon last week, she had made up a box to take to Mrs. D’Angelo.

Ben looked down in embarrassment. “Thanks.” He said quietly. 

“It was so nice of you to bring me some cookies, I used to always make cookies with my grandbabies, but I haven’t seen them in quite a while.” She told them. “I don’t think they’ll be able to visit, my son is taking his brood to Disney this year and my daughters are going skiing and taking care of my son-in-law’s parents, respectively.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Lisa said. “We’ll be sure to stop by when we do neighborhood caroling.”

“I’ll be expecting you!” She smiled. “Well, I don’t want to keep you, I know this young man needs to get home.”

Dean nodded and smiled and said goodbye along with Lisa. 

As they got into the car, Lisa said, “It’s a shame she’s going to be alone for the holidays. I should ask Louise if she knows if Mrs. D’Angelo has anyone from church she can visit with for the day.” 

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, turning the wheel. He didn’t see why it mattered if an old lady was alone for the holidays, since he and Sammy spent the majority of them either cleaning weapons, or their noses buried in dusty old books reading lore, or waiting for John to bring home some food. Nobody cared about  _ them  _ at those times. It was still hard for him to get used to all the things that “normal” people did in their day-to-day lives. 

The neighborhoods they drove through to get to Lisa’s were all decked out with Christmas lights and decorations. That was one thing Dean always enjoyed- driving around looking at lights. He remembered being in the back seat with Sam, huddled under a blanket together because the heater in the car had broken and there was no money to fix it.  _ “Wow, look at all those lights!” Sam pressed his nose against the window. “How many d’you think are on the house? Hundreds?” He shivered, and Dean leaned over and tucked the blanket more firmly around his little brother. “Yeah, maybe.” He replied. “D’you think we’ll ever have a house with Christmas lights?” Sam asked quietly, glancing at Dean. Dean looked up front to see if their dad had heard, but John was fiddling with the radio. “I dunno, Sammy.” He said wistfully. _

Dean mentally shook himself as they pulled into the garage. Jesus, what was wrong with him? He didn’t used to be this maudlin. Well, seeing your brother possessed by the devil and throwing himself into Hell will make a guy kinda depressed. He had a flash of memory of Stull Cemetery-

_ Sam raised his fist again--Dean was too beaten down, in too much pain, to flinch any more. He saw the sunlight glinting in Sam’s eye, and Sam froze for a long moment. Then his face changed and he released Dean. Sam was back in control, but for how long? “ _ _ It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I've got him.” Sam said reassuringly. Dean wanted nothing more than to take Sam out of there and run, but he knew that wasn’t what had to happen. And it sucked. _

Dean let Lisa and Ben walk into the house before him, scrubbing a hand over his face and trying to get a handle on himself. It wouldn’t do for him to lose his shit.

Ben eyed the container when Lisa set it on the kitchen counter. “All right, kiddo, I see you. There’s coffee cake in here and some Rice Krispie treats. You can have one, and then I want you to brush  _ extra good.” _

Ben brightened. “Thanks, Mom!” He grabbed a Rice Krispie square out of the box as soon as Lisa removed the lid.

Dean was right behind him.”The rest of these are mine.” He removed one and took a big bite. He’d always had a sweet tooth, and he’d discovered that he loved Rice Krispie treats.

“Hey, no fair!” Ben protested. 

“Do I need to have a talk with you about sharing, Dean?” Lisa teased. “We can always make a batch for ourselves.”

Dean snapped his fingers. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get to work, woman!”

She laughed, poking his side. “Oh, you!” 

He put his arm around her waist for a moment and squeezed. “Sit down and I’ll get the coffee started.” 

“Okay, thanks.” She sat down at the kitchen table.

Ben had finished eating. He rinsed his fingers at the sink and turned to leave the room.

Lisa took something out of her pocket and held it out- Ben’s clip-on tie. “Put this away, and hang up your jacket and pants, please.” 

“Okay!” Ben said as he left. 

“I don’t want to find them kicked under your bed, either!” Lisa called.

They heard his footsteps pounding up the stairs.

Dean started the coffee maker, and then removed two mugs from the cabinet. He got the bottle of Jameson’s off of the top of the fridge and poured some into one of the mugs, lifting it to his lips and taking a large swallow. 

“Go easy, there.” Lisa said to him.

He lowered the mug. “Gotta make sure it’s still good.” He joked. 

Once the coffee and whiskey was poured, he sat down with Lisa at the table. They drank their Irish coffee and ate the cinnamon-flavored cake and chatted about things that needed to be done before Christmas-- there were still a couple of presents and food to be purchased, and the presents needed to be wrapped, and Lisa had to take gifts to Ben’s teachers before the winter break. When Ben called down to tell them he was going to bed, Dean followed Lisa upstairs. They said goodnight to the kid and tucked him in. 

In the hallway, Lisa turned to him. “I think I’m going to turn in, I’m exhausted.”

“I’ll be up in a while.” Dean said. He kissed her, and she went into the bathroom. 

He padded back to the kitchen and washed the dishes, and then set up a fresh pot of coffee for the morning. He poured another generous helping of Jameson’s into his mug and sat down at the table. He usually had a couple of drinks before bed to keep the nightmares at bay, and he knew he’d need it tonight. He hadn’t expected that the past would come up as much as it had been, but Ben reminded him of Sam so much sometimes that he felt a physical ache. And then it would hit him, that Sam wasn’t here anymore, that he’d jumped into The Cage, that he was in Hell. A flash of memory went through Dean’s mind-  _ The red light of the ever-present fires, the oppressive heat, the metal instruments glinting with fresh blood,  _ his  _ blood, and the pain that tore through his limbs--the screams that he couldn’t help--  _

_ Sam was there  _ now, _ he was in The Cage with Lucifer, what was happening to him, what kind of torture was being inflicted on his little brother-- _

He grabbed the mug and slammed the rest of the whisky down his throat, and then filled the mug halfway and swallowed it quickly for good measure. It burned going down, and he welcomed the discomfort, it gave him something else to focus on besides the Goddamned memories. He needed to get some shut-eye tonight.

In a few moments, he started to feel a little buzzed, and he knew it was time for bed. He rinsed his mug under the tap and left it on the side of the sink, and put the bottle back on top of the fridge. He walked into the living room like he did every night, to make sure the house was locked down.

He pulled the curtains closed, peering outside for a moment at the Christmas lights twinkling across the street. Everything was so quiet now. The late evenings had always been his favorite because of it. _ He laid on the sofa, the blue light of the TV washing over him, the sound turned low so he wouldn’t wake Sam. The boy rolled over in his bed and murmured something in his sleep. Dean listened as Sam’s breathing evened out and deepened. He heard a car in the parking lot and sat up, but after a moment realised that it wasn’t the Impala. Dad would be back soon, he just knew it. In the meantime, he could hold down the fort and watch over Sammy like he always did. Even though it was a big responsibility, it was one that Dean had grown up with. Dean was used to taking care of Sam and Dad, cooking meals and cleaning weapons and washing clothes. It was part of life as a hunter, and Dean wanted nothing more than to be a hunter like his dad. _

Dean checked the locks on the front and back doors, and peeked in on Ben when he walked upstairs. The kid was sound asleep, and he left the door open a crack before going down the hall to the bedroom. 

He stood on the landing, facing Lisa’s bedroom. Then he turned and looked down the stairs. The Impala was in the garage, covered in a tarp. He could take her out for a drive, find a crossroads, and try to convince a demon to bring Sam back. Hell, it was Christmas time, maybe they’d give him some kind of ‘holiday special’. 

Unbidden, he heard Sam’s voice in his head. “ _ You go find Lisa. You pray to God she's dumb enough to take you in, and you – you have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple-pie life, Dean. Promise me.” _

He sighed. He had promised Sam he wouldn’t try to bring him back. It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do, but he was trying to keep that promise. Sometimes he didn’t know how he was going to carry on living without his brother, but he had to. He owed Sammy that much.

Dean turned and walked down the hall to the bedroom, slipping into bed beside Lisa. She rolled over in her sleep and snuggled up to his side. He put his arm around her and closed his eyes. For now, he was home. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
